Finding Hope
by Demona-Silverwing
Summary: After the fall of the USSR, Russia finds himself thinking about his current situation. No couples. R&R.


AN: Hello, everybody! I've been a reader on this site for the longest time, and finally decided to write something, since I always wanted to do it, but never had enough courage. Let me just to make one thing clear. I wrote this one-shot to make up for the lack of "Russia NOT acting like the devil himself" fics on this site. As a Russian, I know that Russia is not the devil, and never was. He has some issues, but nothing extreme like that. Anyway, there is a little religion present here, because it's an important part of my country's history. But please don't be too mean when you review. And please, tell me if there are any mistakes.

I don't own Hetalia obviously.

* * *

I open my eyes slowly, blinking at the soft light. I breathe out and see a white cloud forming in front of my face. It had to be December. It had to be just about the time my people celebrate New Year, which is one of the biggest celebrations here.

I try to sit up. My head spins, and my memory is hazy.

What was my name again? Ah. It's "Russian Federation" now, right? And here was I thinking USSR was going to last forever.

There's a metallic taste in my mouth. There must have been more deaths. Death always happens, doesn't it? It's a part of life, and life must go on, as should mine. But I'm seriously wondering now - should it really?

I can hardly see ahead of me. I squint and try to distinguish the shapes I suddenly see approaching from afar. Who are they? Are they actually smiling? Those smiles are too wide for my liking. I look away.

After what feels like eternity, I try to stand, but I find it hard to do again. I must have drunk too much yesterday. It's the only thing that helps me forget everything, at least for a short while. The aftermath is horrible. I wake up, I cough up blood, and repeat again.

Today, my heart feels heavier. I feel it beating violently, and then almost stopping. Are you fighting each other, my people? Are you trying to destroy what's left of me? Maybe you can't see ahead just like me. Do those dark shapes in the distance frighten you too?

I decide to lie in the snow for a bit longer, to make the dizziness go away. The sky looks so blue. Is it mocking me? I manage to choke out a little raspy laugh.

_~Here you are again, Russia: being knocked down by evil forces. But don't you always get up and give them what they deserve? _

Yes, maybe.

_~Get up then._

"Give a few more minutes. Just a little more" – I reply.

Wait. Whose voice was that? I heard that voice before, I think. Or had I completely gone crazy?

I sit up suddenly, and wince from a sharp pain in my head. My arms travel back to support my weight. One of my palms hit something cold and small lying in the snow. I circle my fingers around it and bring it closer to my face to find out what it is.

What in the… A cross, with a piece of thin chain hanging from it? It must have been lying on that ground for ages, if the rust and dirt was anything to go by.

I close my eyes trying to remember why it looked so familiar.

_~You used to talk to me all the time._

My eyes fly open. I realize with a hint of sadness that for all these 70 years this voice always whispered somewhere deep in my heart. But I always silenced it, eventually almost forgetting whose it was.

"I got by just fine without you." I say hoarsely. It's amazing how time changed me. The cross now feels cold and foreign in my hand.

There is silence for a few minutes. The smiling shapes creep closer. One of them extends its thin and bony hand to me. Unconsciously I bring the cross closer to my chest, backing away from the shape.

"It's alright, Russia. We'll help you out, just trust us." It says, while other shapes' smiles grow wider.

What choice do I have, I think tiredly. Do I die here, or in their clutches? But who knows – they might not be that harmful.

I reach out and grab the shape's hand. It's pretty sturdy, and it helps me stand up slowly, albeit shakily. I take few unsteady steps, stumble, but regain my footing. When I look ahead of me, there's only mist and darkness.

The cross is a little warmer in my hand. I hear no voice anymore, but I am sure that its owner is still there, hiding in my heart.

With those thoughts in my mind I straighten my back and take a few more steps into the darkness.

I'll get by...

* * *

**AN:** For those who don't know: when Soviet Union was formed, the destruction of churches began immediately. So Russia had its faith taken away from it. It was bad during the first years, but got a little better during the latest years. But the dirty work was already done.

And those dark shapes are supposed to be "leaders" who turn out to be not so good.


End file.
